Page 97 of The Menagerie

And Mal’s gasping and his back is arching off the bed and his thighs are shaking and his fists are clenching by his side and he cries out, “Gonna…!”

And Rowan pulls off.

“Fu-fuck,please!”

“Uh-uh. Again.”

WHEN MALcurses, Rowan knows to speed up both his hands.

When he moans, he knows to slow down with the masturbator and press his fingertips firmly against his prostate.

When he writhes, he knows to suck the tip of his cock into his mouth and roll his balls in his hands.

When he can do little more than whimper and mumble some variation of “I’m gonna come!” he knows to pull away completely.

Sometimes he’ll leave his fingers buried inside to feel the heat around his fingers and the quivering of his muscles, but he holds them still. Nothing more than a placeholder for his cock.

Mal gets louder each time his orgasm is ripped away from him. A beautiful symphony of moans and gasps and whines that Rowan draws out from him like a conductor, and he feels on top of the world.

And Rowan makes sure to tell him how perfect he is with each one. How good, how gorgeous. Makes sure to pinch and roll his nipples as he comes down from the near-high and stick his fingers in his mouth to let him taste himself and keep his mouth busy.

By the sixth denied orgasm, Mal’s skin is flushed pink and glistening with a sheen of sweat, and he’s more than earned his release.

“You choose,” Rowan starts, watching Mal’s chest heaving. “Come like this, or come on my cock?”

Mal doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Want you.”

There’s a little jolt that runs through Rowan’s chest at the phrasing. Like Mal actually wantshimand not one specific part of him.

But he shoves those thoughts aside, not wanting to dwell on maybes when there are a whole lot ofdefinitelys happening right now. As in, he’s definitely got to get his cock inside Mal again. And Mal definitely wants him to.

Unclipping Mal’s wrists from his thighs and hauling him to his feet, Rowan settles against the bench and guides Mal between his spread thighs.

“You’re gonna ride me,” he tells him.

Mal bites his lip but nods, letting Rowan pull him up so he’s straddling him, Mal’s cock pressed firmly against Rowan’s lower belly and his ass inches above Rowan’s own cock. Once he’s settled, Rowan clips Mal’s wrists together behind his back. He can tell he’s wobbly and supports him with a firm hand to his lower back while he slips his erection between Mal’s cheeks, slicking his length between his cheeks and positioning himself under Mal’s hole.

“Sit.”

Slowly, so fucking slowly, Mal sinks down and down and down a half inch at a time, breathing hard through his nose until Rowan’s fully sheathed and nearly aching from the heat of Mal’s body.

“Fuck…,” Rowan breathes, barely audible but so loud to his own ears with the rushing of blood echoing in his head.

He wants to chastise himself for showing his hand, but Mal merely exhales a long, shaky moan in response, and he couldn’t care less about the slip.

But he sits there in Rowan’s lap. And sits and sits. Andsits, because that’s what Rowan told him to do, didn’t he?God,he’s so fucking good.

“You can move now. At your own pace. And,” he says, tugging at the clip binding his wrists together. “You’ll get these back if you’re good.”

Then Mal’s rising up, thighs flexing at the height of his ascent and quivering on the way down. As he gains speed, it feels so damn good that Rowan nearly forgets himself. Nearly fucks up into him in an effort to quell the slowly simmering heat that’s been building all night. But he reins himself in, focusing on the slick drag of Mal’s walls around him and the rolling of his abs as he rides him.

“That’s it. Keep fucking yourself until I say you’re done.”

“I can’t…,” he says, thighs quivering and pace slowing to little more than a stutter.

“Yes, you can. Make me proud, Mal.”

The request works. Mal seems to get a second wind at the prospect of pleasing Rowan—of making him proud—and it’s the hottest fucking thing. With every rise and every drop, he brings both himself and Rowan closer to the sweet promise of release. Rowan grabs the masturbator he’d brought with him, slips it over Mal’s red cock and makes him whimper.

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